Note: I'm typing this chapter from up in Maine, where I have recently found out that I ACTUALLY HAVE INTERNET IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE OMGWTFBBQ SAUCE YAY. So, here's chapter six. This title translates into German as "Krankes".

I don't own Harry Potter, but I do own Memoire d'un Reve.

Chapter Six: Sick

Droiture stirred his potion thoughtfully, taking proper care of the liquid like it was his child. Even Snape seemed impressed at his vigor for potion-making. "Keep up the good work, Mr LeReve, and perhaps you won't become a total failure after all."

"Ah-ah-ah! Shhhh! Teen-with-short-fuse-stirring-Necrosis-potion-that-will-make-all-his-dreams-come-true!" Droiture stammered in one breath, twitching sporadically. It was clear he hadn't gotten any sleep in days.

-Annabella my sister-

-Every day I wonder-

-She is so like you-

-Don't leave me sister-

-Please sister I'm sorry-

-Forgive your foolish brother-

Droiture shook those annoying little voices out of his mind as Snape raised an eyebrow, walking away.

"Droiture--"

"What?" Droiture snapped, flipping around. "Oh, Hermione, it's you. I apologize, what is it?"

"You've broken your stirring stick." Droiture looked down to see that indeed, his tightly-clutched hand was the only thing keeping the top half of the stick from falling into the tar-like liquid in the cauldron.

"Oh. Sorry, Hermione, I've been on edge lately." Droiture repaired the stick with a mumbled spell and continued his work.

"I noticed." Hermione said, an edge of irritation in her voice.

"I'm sorry, have I done something to anger you?" Droiture asked.

"It's nothing...." Hermione said.

"Hermione, I grew up with an angry mother and younger sister. When a woman says 'It's nothing', it means 'It's something'. What have I done?" Droiture asked.

"I.... I don't know. I want to... be there for you, and help you through this mess you've created for yourself, but you never let me in, ever! You won't tell me the whole story. You say your sister died, but you won't say why you're so keen on bringing her back. Life only truly flows in one direction--"

"--And humans aren't meant to be brought back from the dead. I know. Hermione, I used to be an alchemist before I came to Hogwarts. I know all about it. But it's not going to stop me. Whether it costs me my soul or my life, I will bring her back. You want to know the true story, do you? Fine."

Droiture looked Hermione straight in the eyes with a piercing gaze of a man who's lost it all. "I killed Annabella." He growled.

Hermione gasped in shock, dropping her textbook. "Droiture! I never--"

"It was an accident, alright? My mother and I were fighting, and I was stoned out of my mind at the time, drunk off of alcohol and drugs and the sheer adrenaline running through my veins, and I snapped, and in my haze, I killed her, but I didn't realize Annabella was in the way until it was too late. By that time, she was already dead. Yes, I have murdered in cold blood, but my dear sister... I never meant to put her in harm's way." Droiture let out a sardonic laugh. "It's ironic, really. I was so protective, so desperate to keep her safe and out of Mother's control, but it was that same desperation which took her life. That's why this potion is so dear to me. That's why I must suffer for my sins. My envy, my wrath, my greed.... The Seven Sins flow throughout these veins and control my every way of being. I am a Daemon. It is in my blood. I am deeply sorry, Hermione, and I hope to God you don't think me any less of a man for it."

Droiture reached out to touch Hermione's face, but she flinched.

"Droiture... I... How can I.... trust you now?"

"I told you the truth, did I not? You asked to know the truth and the truth is what you got. I live every day in a state of total torment, every day in a Hell of my own creation. Hermione.... my sister was the dearest thing to me. When I found out I had been the cause of her death, I went mad. I began to hear things, see things that weren't really there. After a time, my insanity subsided, replaced with horrifying, cruel sanity and clarity. Hermione, I am as sane as you are. This potion can at least give me the illusion of my beloved sister again, even if.... Even if she's an emotionless shell. At least she'll be breathing again!"

"But what if that's not what she wanted, Droiture? She must have known who you are, what you are!"

"You said what I was didn't matter!" Droiture snapped. "You said it was foolish to discriminate!"

"Miss Granger, Mr LeReve, if you two are so intent on having a conversation rather than working on your potion, the two of you can do it in detention!" Snape called.

"Fine." Droiture said, growling.

"What you are doesn't matter, not to me, but to your sister, it may have been different!" Hermione whispered.

Droiture grew to his full height. "Don't you ever fucking dare start! You didn't know Annabella, you didn't know how pure she was, how good! Annabella was the only friend I ever had, and her beauty knew no bounds!" Droiture screamed.

"Mr LeReve! Miss Granger! 50 points each from Gryffindor! Get out of my classroom!"

Hermione and Droiture were ushered quickly from the classroom.

Droiture glared angrily at Hermione and morphed into the shadows, disappearing before her very eyes.

". . .I... didn't mean to hurt your feelings....Droiture...."

Annabella-

Hermione has betrayed my trust. I revealed to her the story, thinking I could trust her, and she turned on me. She started thinking she could tell me- me!- how you could think and feel.... She said it didn't matter to her what I was, but you...

You didn't think of me as a freak, did you? Not like the others.... Please....

Sister, you're the world to me. I will bring you back.

Droiture LeReve